


The One Who Steals Hearts

by Hero_Protagonist



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hero_Protagonist/pseuds/Hero_Protagonist
Summary: A few years after the Phantom Theives retire, Akira gets a letter inviting him to participate in a "cross-universal tournament" with the promise of being reunited with his powers while he participated. Having to hang up his tailcoat had left a bigger void within him than he wanted to admit, and he decides to accept under the condition that he gets to run the café.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross post of my story from FFNet that had the same name. I FUCKING CALLED THIS HOLY SHIT. Decided that I'd post it here too since I know some people favor Ao3.
> 
> ALSO PERSONA 5 SPOILERS

_Ting-a-ling_ __

A small bell waved back and forth at the dark shadow that opened the door to the small shop. The sound of short, practiced breaths became audible as the newcomer stepped in, joining the solo of a ticking clock somewhere within the establishment. The barely formed duet was quickly interrupted by rustling followed by the chime of a smartphone.

Incandescent light cut through the darkness of the empty shop, revealing the owner of both the store and the smartphone. He was male with fair complexion, his crimson irises burning passively as they focused on the electronic device in his hand. The white bird-like mask he wore didn't seem to obstruct his vision and it only complemented the unnerving color of his eyes, something he knew all too well from experience.

Another chime was heard as the masked newcomer inputted a command on the application that was on his screen. Maroon light washed over his body from head to toe a moment later, his appearance gradually changing with it.

The mask that sat under black frizzy hair was exchanged for a pair of round, equally black framed glasses. Crimson transitioned to a sharp gray akin to that of a freshly honed blade, the natural edge persuading him to wear his pair of frames to dull the impact of his gaze. The shape of his eyes gave away his innate guile that established him as a predator and not prey. It was a quality that had caused him a lot of trouble until he adopted the more passive appearance.

Kurusu, Akira certainly wasn't a malevolent being, at least, not to anyone who treated others with kindness and basic human decency. However, his intentions were never asked by the many that had spread unsavory rumors about him. Those rumors had quickly been pushed to the back of his mind though, and in some ways he didn't blame others for fearing him. After all, if any student had seen what he got up to when he swapped his casual wear for his infiltration gear, they would've ran home and asked for forgiveness from everything short of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

It wasn't that his attire was particularly terrifying, how scary could a fancy black tailcoat tastefully paired with a gray waistcoat, black jogger-style pants, crimson gloves, and black-brown winklepickers be? One could attribute their fear to the menacing curve of his short sword, Paradise Lost, or the silver finish of his IMI Desert Eagle. No, it was far simpler than that, it was the presence of mind that he held at all times. Everything about him screamed confidence whenever he took on the role of Joker.

That role was currently being stashed away on his phone thanks to the magical application that was gifted to him by the tournament organizers. The wave of maroon brought casual clothing in the form of a white button up shirt that had its sleeves rolled back, black pants, and matching shoes. It was simple enough to be laid back, but still held an amount of professionalism that showed that he hadn't just rolled out of bed before standing behind the counter. It was something he picked up from his mentor, although he didn't follow his mentor's teachings to the letter as his barista apron was absent.

Akira tucked his phone into one of his pockets and flicked the light switch to wake a warm orange glow that filled the room without hesitation. He scrutinized every detail of the promised re-creation of Leblanc from his position by the door. Comfortable padded booths and pristine tables sat directly to his left with the familiar bar counter starting directly in front of him and ending near the back of the room. Everything was almost identical, from the wooden flooring that abruptly transitioned to tile, to the stained-glass lampshades and simple lighting fixtures that hung from the ceiling. Window placement was also the exact same despite now facing a dark corridor inside the building he would now be calling home instead of a vacant Yongen-Jaya street.

Getting the invitation to attend this tournament had been unexpected to say the least. Life had transitioned back to normal after that fateful fight in the clouds, and it had happened so quickly it felt like a warm summer's day devastated by unpredicted thunderheads. It took some time for Akira's parasol to adapt to its new primary function as he got reacquainted with the monotonous drizzle of day to day routine devoid of any phantom thievery. The ebb and flow of time quickly transitioned from a slight trickle as he finished high school - to a near downpour as he worked through university. The impact that came from moonlighting as a savior of the universe had yet to be seen on his academics.

His invite had come in the form of a letter that had been delivered to his mentor's establishment. It detailed a "cross-universal tournament" something that he thought was an elaborate joke penned by one of his friends until it directed him to an application on his phone. The circular icon that had two slashes in it randomly appearing on his phone filled him with a sense of deja vu that wasn't entirely appreciated, but it gave the letter validity.

He immediately thought about declining, after all, Joker had been left behind for a handful of years at that point. All that was left were memories, a desire to continue to be physically fit, and excitement to dress extravagantly whenever the proper outing called for it. Well, that was if Akira denied the empty void that remained now that there were no palaces to infiltrate or powerful beings to bond with and command. The strange letter seemed to provide him with an opportunity to fill that void, if not at the very least provide him with the adrenaline rush that came with combat.

"Good morning."

Akira nearly jumped out of his skin as he was yanked from his musings by an unexpected voice. It was a voice that could only be described as "neutral". It had about as much energy as anyone else's but it lacked specific intonations that allowed a listener to place mood or even gender. Yet somehow it was everything except robotic.

The bespectacled barista hadn't heard the door open nor the bell ring, and the irony of The Phantom being snuck up on wasn't lost on him. "It was just rust from being out of practice for so long," he lied to himself as he turned to identify the culprit while giving up a smile to try and save some face. Standing behind him was a person that matched the voice he had heard perfectly, neither their attire nor their features made any bold statements and their gender wasn't immediately discernible.

"Welcome to Leblanc," he greeted coolly as he walked around the bar and stood behind the counter. His gray eyes traversed the panoply of coffee beans that sat on the shelves that would normally be behind him. The time he had been given to prepare had just been taken up by the mental retracing of his steps, so he tried to make up for that quickly. Each kind of bean he saw save for a few specifics were something he was familiar with, but the barista welcomed seeing new beans. Experimenting with them would give him something to do whenever there was any down time.

Satisfied, he quickly turned back to his first patron, noticing that they had been examining the selection just as he had. Only one of their eyes was visible, and the barista was surprised to see an iris as crimson as his when he was Joker. The other was obscured by long, blonde bangs that rested over a white scarf which transitioned into an identically colored half balaclava that hid their nose and mouth. A matching cloth cap rested on their head, a gray clip keeping the accessory together. The rest of their body was covered in an outfit that was form fitting, akin to something that people from his home would expect ninjas to wear. Its primary colors consisted of shades of blue, each differing in intensity. The only deviations from that color palette were courtesy of brown and gold armor pieces that rested on their shoulders, torso, and shins along with a crimson design on their chest that looked like an eye above a teardrop. The design itself being curiously similar to the logo of the MetaNav.

"Please let me know if I can get you anything," he said as the stranger finally took a seat at the bar.

"Matcha tea to go, please."

Akira immediately stifled a chuckle as he began to set water to boil before searching for a container of matcha, "Boss wouldn't let me hear the end of it if he found out my first order was anything but coffee."

"Would you like it in a bowl or a cup?"

"Bowl is fine," the patron replied while their eye did another scan of the cafe before returning to focus on him. "Forgive me for scaring you earlier, I forget that not everyone is used to being awake this early in the morning."

The Phantom Thief maintained his easy smile as he looked at the clock on the wall; 4:32 AM. It was rather early in the morning, but truth be told, Akira had been awake for the past two hours. Accepting the invitation was as simple as showing up, and interacting with the new application on his phone was all he had to do to arrive at his destination. Preparation had been easy enough, but to celebrate being able to call upon his abilities as Joker once more, he had decided to infiltrate 'Smash Manor' for old time's sake.

"It's quite alright," he assured, "you didn't scare me, I was just… lost in thought is all."

"Oh," the ninja replied as they brought their arms to rest on the counter, a gauntlet hovering over where their mouth would be. "My apologies for assuming, I just saw every muscle in your back tense and I figured that I might have surprised you." Before Akira could protest with a slight tinge of embarrassment beginning to appear on his cheeks, they mercifully changed the subject. "So are you a new staff member? I don't recall seeing your face before."

He nodded as he retrieved the now hot water and moved to pour it in the bowl. "I just arrived recently, yes. The previous cafe was a bit of an underachievement and the organizers wanted to show it a little love."

The patron hummed to show understanding, "I never had a problem with the old one, but it was self-serve. I suppose the logic was that anyone who wanted coffee or tea would probably already know how to make it if provided with the ingredients." They watched Akira carefully sift the matcha into the bowl before they continued, "I saw they were remodeling, but I never expected dedicated staff."

"Sounds like I'm the one that did the surprising," Akira looked up as his practiced customer service grin turned into a far more playful expression.

It was enough to get a chuckle out of the ninja, "perhaps."

Akira being "dedicated staff" wasn't entirely true. When he heard there was a self-serve cafe among one of the amenities provided by the tournament, he had immediately offered his services. Making coffee wasn't just something he loved, but it was also a good starting point to meet the other contestants. That, and it would give him something to do in case nothing else held his attention.

"Sure you can't stay a moment, Miss…" he attempted to reach for a name while he slid the bowl toward the person across from him.

"Miss?"

"Oh- Are you not?!"

There was a glint of humor in their crimson iris as they chuckled once more, this time allowing it to last a few more seconds. It was still entirely too short, but it was melodic, a sound Akira knew he could get used to.

"I am," they finally replied, "I just wanted to test your resolve. Not many people pick up on my gender that quickly. In fact, some people still debate it to this day. If you don't mind me asking, how did you figure it out?"

"That's an easy one," he replied coolly, "your fingernails."

That caused the ninja to immediately look at a gloved hand, blue fingerless gauntlets stopping a little past her first knuckle to reveal slim fingers and clean, unpainted fingernails.

"I see. I must commend you on such an astute observation," she replied as she stood from her seat and offered a hand, "I'm Sheik. Will you always be here this early?"

The barista took the offered hand and smiled, "Akira, and yeah, that's the plan. So long as you continue to want coffee or tea this early, I'll be here."

"Glad to hear it," Sheik retracted her hand and picked up the bowl before heading out of Leblanc.

An interesting and satisfied customer, not to mention a deadly combatant if the attire wasn't for show. If there were more people like Sheik participating then this tournament would be the best decision Akira had made in a while.

* * *

 

"Matcha tea to go, please."

"Coming right up," Akira smiled as he began to prepare the order.

After Sheik had left the previous day the barista had the honor of serving a wide variety of fighters. He had sorely underestimated the "cross-universal" aspect of the Smash tournament, his clientele ranging from an Italian plumber to esteemed royalty. There had been a woman in a cyan skin-tight suit who had the fiercest poker face he had ever witnessed. Her unnerving gaze had taught him how his friend Ryuji probably had felt every time finals were around the corner. Fortunately the irrational fear that nothing he did would ever be up to her standards had been quelled by reserves of inner confidence that his friend lacked. She had only spoken enough to order her drink and show her appreciation before she stood up and left.

Another noteworthy encounter was caused by another woman named Bayonetta. She was impossibly flirtatious and flaunted a body she clearly knew would drive men crazy. He had kept his cool then too, easily preparing the extra sugary drink she had asked for. To his dismay (and pleasure), she had taken a seat and chatted with him while she downed her drink. Naturally the conversation was full of innuendos and generous angles before she tossed him a sly wink and sauntered out of the cafe.

Every other interaction had been as unique as the person he was conversing with. Although he couldn't reveal too much about himself considering that his presence as a fighter hadn't been announced yet, there were certainly murmurings. Many of the others were convinced that a mysterious newcomer would be arriving soon. Some had even asked him if he knew anything, to which he politely shook his head in the negative.

Overall, it had been a solid first day, and now he was prepared to take his place on center stage. Even though his cat wasn't hot on his heels here, Akira still went to bed early to wake up and open the shop in time for Sheik to arrive in the morning.

"You didn't tense up this time, I'm impressed," the ninja said as she took a seat on the same chair she had chosen the previous morning.

"You may be able to shock your opponents, but the only time I'm surprised is when my friends plan something for my birthday without my knowledge."

"Oh?" Sheik visibly perked up, "if that's the case then how old did you turn yesterday?"

Akira grinned as he began to whisk the matcha he had sifted into a bowl of water, "Old enough to not have been scared by someone who would later introduce themselves as Sheik."

"My, that's oddly specific," the ninja hummed, "I'm sad to say that I'm unfamiliar with that age."

"Really?" the barista asked as he slid the bowl of tea to his first patron of the day. "Where I'm from we have a huge ceremony where we all sing and dance."

Sheik allowed a chuckle at that as she stood from her seat, "You'll have to forgive me for forgetting to bring balloons then."

"All is forgiven," he smiled, but it inadvertently faded as Akira realized she was about to take her leave. He tossed up another quick subject to see if she'd stick around a moment longer, "going to go train in preparation for the rumored newcomer?"

The ninja shook her head, "no, I don't put too much stock in circulating rumors. It starts with something as innocent as a potential new fighter that has an affinity for the color purple, and by the time the week ends that fighter has become a purple dragon with the wingspan of Smash Manor itself."

Akira nodded, "true, but I only open the cafe this early because I heard a rumor about a certain someone that likes to come in this early."

"Oh? And who told you that rumor?"

"The tournament organizers."

Sheik laughed, "it's very generous of you to call that a rumor, that's just more fact than anything."

The melodic sound of the woman's laugher caused Akira's omnipresent smile to grow oh so slightly, "if you sit back down we can argue semantics all morning if you'd like."

"Maybe next time, I have to get in some training. Apparently a new fighter will be arriving soon."

He didn't need x-ray vision to know that her lips were curled into a smirk.

* * *

 

"GAME!"

Lucina heard the voice of the announcer a second after she sent her opponent into the blast zone, claiming their final stock. She was particularly proud of this win as she had finally bested Link after losing the past ten times they had been pit against each other. They were good friends off of the battlefield, and she could picture the smile that would be on his face as they shook hands. It had been a close match after all, her percentage sitting a little over 100% on her final stock. She'd also have to thank her mother for all of the help she had provided with her tactical analysis.

Tempering her excitement and pushing her thoughts aside, the heir of Ylisse took in the view that the Battlefield stage provided as she waited to be teleported to the post-match room. She may have seen the backdrop over a hundred times by this point, but it never got old. The shattered ruins were in the caring embrace of a dusk sky, the dark colors far more inviting than one would expect.

It was strange how much beauty the scene held in the masked hero's mind, the dilapidated floating landscape wasn't that much different than the future she feared for her own home. Her mind could replace some of the structures with ones from home and she was certain it would look identical, but there weren't any godlike threats on this field of battle. There was only camaraderie and sportsmanship, even if some of the participants were the villains of their world.

Lucina smiled at the irony of feeling so safe in a place that was specifically crafted for steel to meet steel repeatedly until someone was eliminated. Unfortunately that smile was short lived as the sound of a siren assaulted her ears without warning, the beautiful sky she had been admiring becoming pitch black as a warning faded in and out.

NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHING!

It wasn't a new experience for her, but despite the rumors, she hadn't been expecting this any time soon. A warm sensation flooded her body, healing any damage she had received in her previous match as she was bathed in a warm light and transported to a new stage. Possibilities raced through her mind as she mentally prepared to face a new opponent no one else had encountered before.

Was it the purple dragon that she had heard about? Or was it just another human? Was it a swordsman? Archer? Mage? Could it be someone or something she could've never imagined? But the most important question of all was, where would she be fighting? Would the terrain work only in their favor? There were just too many things to consider and no time to consider them.

Before she knew it, Lucina's cerulean eyes were greeted with a plethora of golden clouds, the sun's magnificent rays bouncing off of them as it set in the distance. She looked down at the platform beneath her boots, the realization of how high up in the sky she was finally registering in her mind. The stage itself was flat, no doubt in its omega form for this challenge. In a way, the place reminded her of Bayonetta's stage, the main difference being they weren't plummeting toward certain death which was a welcome change.

"3!" the booming voice of the announcer made its presence known.

The swordsman didn't have much time to think about that though, her focus shifting as a dark shadow dropped in from seemingly nowhere across the stage. Lucina's heartbeat quickened as her opponent revealed themselves to her, a masked man standing up from a crouched position to end up about a head taller than her. They wore a white, bird-like mask that framed crimson irises with a sharp, black outline.

"2!"

A confident smirk was plastered on their face as they adjusted their crimson gloves, the almost all black ensemble on display as their tailcoat flapped in the slight wind. They moved their head in a circle, perhaps loosening up.

"1!"

The masked challenger pulled out a short sword from within his coat as Lucina brought Falchion up to bare. She quickly examined his weapon, the blade glinting in the sunlight, showing off its menacing curve. Even the black hilt that transitioned into a guard on the back of the weapon looked intimidating, as if it were some sort of corruption manifesting itself on the weapon.

"Go!"

Both fighters dashed to the center at a breakneck speed, their blades immediately making contact with each other causing a loud clang to ring out among the clouds. The challenger moved first, dodging backward but getting caught in the last two hits of Lucina's dancing blade. His expression didn't change as damage was added to his counter, and he immediately went on the offensive.

Lucina brought up her shield the second she saw her opponent begin to dash toward her. But instead of swinging his blade as she anticipated, he grabbed her out of her protective bubble and threw her skyward. He then followed it up by pulling a gun from his coat and charging for a moment before firing off three shots that she dodged midair. He quickly taught her that it had been the wrong move, his menacing short sword striking her before she was able to land. The feeling of damage racking up continued as the challenger followed up with aerial strikes, easily getting the bluenette off stage.

She was forced to use dolphin slash to grip the edge of the platform, the Ylissean heir refusing to be eliminated so easily. She rolled back onto the stage readying her counter as soon as she finished the maneuver. Unfortunately the challenger seemed to be expecting that, and Lucina felt the brunt of a fully charged slash that sent her flying in the opposite direction. The clouds became a blur as she tried to get her bearings in midair, suddenly a little peeved that these matches were one stock only.

So far the only special move she had seen was how he fired a handgun that he had tucked away. Other than that, he had only used his sword. That wouldn't be very helpful for anyone else planning a strategy if they had to fight him. Lucina adjusted her trajectory before falling back toward the stage, a pair of crimson irises refusing to leave her falling form. The second she hit the stage she rolled forward again, trying to get behind her opponent only to once again get caught in a grab. She was sent flying for the third time, back in the direction she had just come from. If she could just-

"Captain Kidd!"

This time the heiress wasn't given a chance to recover, her eyes just able to make out her opponent's crimson glove hovering over the area between his eyes. The grin on his face had become wicked and his mask was replaced by blue ravenous flames that now shielded menacing yellow eyes. Before she could even begin to deduce what he was doing, the sound of a ship's cannon could be heard only to be followed by the explosion of Lucina flying into the blast zone.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin’s quill dropped onto the page of notes she had been scribbling furiously, the black ink seeping into the parchment leaving behind a hideous blot. The tactician’s mouth was agape as she witnessed a spectral ship with a skeletal captain appear behind the challenger dressed in black. The captain’s right arm ended with a golden cannon, the weapon firing off a lightning bolt that struck Lucina in midair to end the match.

Instead of the announcer yelling, “GAME!” with the traditional font appearing, the challenger executed a perfect backflip before jumping into the sky and landing directly in front of the camera. His crimson irises were on display as he smiled while adjusting one of his gloves, white font on a red background ran down the far left of the viewing screen displaying text that simply read, “THE SHOW’S OVER”.

The spectacle left everyone in the post-match room in silence as they all pieced together what they had just seen. It hadn’t been someone with an affinity for purple or a large purple dragon, but the rumored fighter was definitely not someone to take lightly.

A chime echoed throughout the eerily quiet room as the large screen faded to black. A pair of white doors under the aforementioned screen slid apart to reveal a discouraged Lucina, her win over her friend no longer on her mind. Many of the fighters in the room swarmed her to ask questions about her bout, but she simply raised a hand asking for peace before she headed toward Robin and plopped down on the seat next to her.

“I’m sorry I lost, mother,” the bluenette stated regretfully.

The ash blonde wrapped her arms around her daughter, “there’s nothing to be sorry about, you did the best you could with information you didn’t have.” She stroked Lucina’s hair gently before allowing herself a small laugh, “besides, even I couldn’t have predicted that a pirate ship that shoots lightning bolts would appear. Thanks to your match now I know that’s something to look out for.”

Those words were just enough to get Lucina to smile weakly. Knowing her quick defeat hadn't been all for naught made her feel like there was at least a silver lining. For Robin however, the sad look on her daughter’s face started more than a small fire within her. She’d get back at the challenger for that… in the name of friendly competition of course.

“Well fought,” the rare sound of Link’s voice could be heard as he walked toward the pair of Ylisseans with Zelda in tow. The champion of Hyrule outstretched his hand to Lucina with the ghost of a smile on his face; a gesture of sportsmanship that she returned.

Her smile became a bit more confident as she shook her rival’s hand, “thank you! I really appreciate you saying so!”

“You trained hard. I’m happy to see it paid off, even if it knocks me down a peg.”

“I feel as if I’ve been knocked down a few of those myself,” the princess conceded.

It was Zelda’s turn to speak as she placed a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder, “don’t feel bad. It’s very rare that a challenger loses their first match.”

Link nodded, agreeing with his friend’s words.

“You’re right,” Lucina replied, the disappointment in her voice replaced by confidence. “I’ll just have to get him next time.”

Robin smiled at the change in her daughter’s, and she shot Link a look of gratitude. It had been the same message she would’ve tried to convey, but she knew that it meant more coming from the swordsman that had bested her when she was a new challenger.

Zelda spoke once more, pivoting the subject away from the matches, “We planned on heading to the renovated cafe for some lunch if you’d both like to come with us. Sheik said something about seeing curry and that made me rather curious.”

“It’s not like the curry that drops on the battlefield is it?” Robin shuddered as she remembered the dish that was so spicy it caused fighters to literally breath fire.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out,” a neutral voice said from over the tactician’s shoulder.

Four pairs of eyes turned to find Sheik adeptly spinning one of her many needles between her fingers before she flicked her wrist and it disappeared completely.

“Thought it might be a good idea to join you so we could discuss the new challenger.”

* * *

 

Akira couldn’t help but continue smiling as he was teleported to the second story of Smash Manor’s Leblanc replica. He thought he understood just how much he missed being a Phantom Thief, but it wasn’t until he felt the rush of summoning a Persona for the first time in two years that he realized he had no idea. Arsene had been at the forefront of his mind when it came to deciding which to use first, but there was something awfully poetic about finishing his debut match with the Persona belonging to the person who kind of started it all.

It had been a letdown to read that he was the only Phantom Thief invited to participate in the Smash Tournament, but being able to select three other summons alongside Arsene made him feel a little better. Not that picking only three had been easy, but some representation for those that helped him along the way was better than none, that was for certain.

He tried not to dwell too much on it though, and those thoughts were set aside as his tailcoat was once against exchanged for something more casual. However, his smile did remain as he headed down the stairs and behind the counter. The expression was only strengthened further when a text from the tournament organizer appeared on his phone. “Well done!” was all it said, but that was more than enough for him. His performance along with the added flair at the end had been received well by them, and the message being so concise meant that he was able to pocket his phone just before a group of fighters opened the door.

The first to step inside was Samus, the stoic blonde accompanied by a yellow Pokémon that Akira quickly identified as Pikachu. As they took seats at the counter, Lucina, Robin, Zelda, Link, and Sheik slid into one of the booths.

“Welcome to Leblanc,” he greeted both groups, “we've got more coffee beans than I can keep track of and curry that pairs with each one. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

Samus and Pikachu were the first to speak, the bounty hunter ordering the house blend along with the curry it was paired with. The Pokémon accompanying her expressed its desire for curry but asked for water instead of coffee.

Akira couldn't help but be surprised by the fact that communicating with Pikachu was a little different than speaking to Morgana. Instead of just speaking a human language, the meaning of its cry was just felt in the barista's mind.

“Do you watch the fights here?” Samus asked, her decision to make conversation catching him off guard as he prepared their orders.

“I do actually,” he gestured toward the TV in the corner of the cafe that was currently displaying the schedule for the next day.

“Know anything about the newcomer?”

Akira had to suppress his smile from becoming a little too wide, “just what everyone else knows, I’d imagine.”

“And what does everyone else know?”

“That he’s no slouch."

“How would they know that?” she leaned forward a little, reminding him of a situation he was in with another blonde. The main differences being that the other’s hair was platinum and this time he wasn’t in an interrogation room. Either she was convinced he knew something or she was trying to see if someone else had assessed his performance differently than she had.

The other group that had entered were chatting as they sat down, but now they were dead silent, interested in his back and forth with the bounty hunter. He now had an audience and would have to choose his words carefully. Initially he was going to point out that the only damage the newcomer suffered was from one dancing blade, but while true, it would be a very haughty statement. Now that Lucina was one of the people paying attention, it would also only rub salt in her most likely already wounded pride.

“Well,” he began, “since it was only one of few matches I’ve seen so far, I don’t know how accurate my interpretation would be.”

“Sometimes the opinion of an inexperienced person can help shed some light for those who are experienced,” the ashen blonde woman sitting next to Lucina replied in a cheerful tone. “I know I can get so caught up on finite details that sometimes a fresh perspective helps me find what I was looking for all along.”

_“Looks like I’m not getting out of this one,”_ Akira thought to himself as he presented Samus with her cup of coffee and Pikachu with their water. “I suppose you’re right. As an observer it felt like the newcomer knew what he was doing since the beginning of the match. It reminded me of something a friend once said about playing Shogi, ‘you look one hundred moves ahead and then you make your play.’”

That statement wasn’t far from the truth when it came to how he approached his first match. Being somewhat of a staff member of Smash Manor, he had been supplied with a list of cards that had profiles for the fighters. They didn’t give away any tactical information about the combatants, just names and preferences when it came to what they ate and drank. But an edge was still an edge. Not to mention that as he had told Samus, he had indeed gotten to watch the fights as they happened. Lucina’s match against Link had pushed both fighters to their limits, any onlooker could have seen that. The display had allowed him to see several of the bluenette’s tactics and habits that were both good and bad.

Lucina nodded solemnly, “it certainly felt that way to me as well. After I landed a few hits at the beginning he never let my blade make contact with him again.” She sunk into her seat a little, “I felt out classed in every way.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the swordswoman, he didn’t realize people took losses so seriously. It was possible that he may have overdone it a little on the battlefield, but at the same time, it wasn’t something he was going to apologize for. He was a showstopper from circular frames to bone white mask, and pulling punches had the potential to wound someone’s pride just as much. She’d come back stronger, and he’d look forward to that.

“So you think he’s someone that’s tactically minded and has the physical skill to make his scenarios happen,” Samus assessed, coming back into the conversation she started.

“Basically,” he confirmed as he headed to a simmering pot of curry in the kitchen area of the cafe.

“He’d need information to be able to plot his course of action,” the bounty hunter stated to no one in particular as he served her and her companion a plate of rice and a bowl full of curry. “Maybe he was able to watch the matches without being in the viewing room.” Her cyan eyes found Akira’s steel ones as she picked up her spoon, “pretty convenient don’t you think?”

“I’d certainly say so,” he coolly replied before changing the subject by heading to Sheik’s group and getting their orders.

“Did the song reveal anything, Sheik?” Robin asked.

“Nothing more than what we've already discussed,” the ninja replied.

“Song?” Akira asked, continuing his facade of inexperience.

Sheik nodded, “you may not have noticed, but every match plays music relating to the stage the fighters are on. Naturally the fighter's themselves can't hear it due to it being a distraction, but the audience can.”

“So the stage the newcomer was on related to him therefore the song playing would also be his?”

“Precisely,” she replied. “Music can reveal the personality of a fighter if it's something they connect with strongly. It's rare to hear lyrics, but this piece did have a few that I caught.” She turned her attention to the woman who asked the initial question, “Miss Robin, if I may.”

“Of course,” Robin replied before pulling out a book and quill from within her coat. The cafe sat in silence while Sheik wrote down what she had heard before passing the book back to its owner who began reading it.

“You try to run me through

Hold on

Think again

Don't you know

What you're starting

But… you sure ain't got a clue

How bad

This will go

Don't you know

Know my art

Art of war”

She stopped there, an unamused expression on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, he's certainly confident in his skills.”

Akira almost had to look away to hide his smile. He was well aware of Last Surprise, after all, he had chosen it. Turns out some of the people that frequented the Phansite were skilled musicians and the actions of the Phantom Thieves inspired them to create some very appropriate theme songs back when they were active.

“It looks like you left some of it out,” he gestured at a few more lines at the bottom of the page.

The ash-blonde huffed, “it's just more of him blowing his own trumpet.”

That statement seemed to make Lucina curious and she looked over Robin's shoulder to read the rest.

“And as you look to the horizon

Not a cloud

But then stormy weather's caught you cold

Seems like it crept up out of nowhere

All around

You it's not quite what you foretold

You--”

The tactician abruptly shut the book, causing even Samus and Pikachu to toss a glance in her direction. Judging by how much force she had used, it was no doubt a gesture done out of annoyance. Her cheeks began to visibly turn pink as all eyes were on her, but the sound of the door to Leblanc opening commanded everyone's focus.

“YOU'LL NEVER SEE IT COOOMMMIIING,” the sound of a very off-key Pit filled the cafe.

“Pit, please,” a green-haired woman that accompanied him pleaded as she hid an obvious smile with her hand.

“Yes,” Samus followed up in a slightly miffed tone as she set down her cup of coffee, “please.”

“Sorry, Samus,” the winged boy chuckled awkwardly. “It's just so catchy.”

“Good afternoon, Lady Palutena,” Zelda smiled, speaking for the first time since arriving.

“Greetings, Princess Zelda,” Palutena allowed her smile to be visible as she returned the greeting. “It seems you've beat me to trying this wonderful place, do you have any recommendations?”

“I have yet to order actually,” the princess giggled, putting Akira back in the center of everyone's attention. “I'll have a white chocolate mocha, please.”

“You got it,” he replied, slipping back into his role without skipping a beat.

“One for me as well if you don't mind,” Palutena followed up.

“Not at all!”

“Hey Link,” Pit called as he and his companion sat in the booth adjacent to Hylian's. “What are you having?”

Link replied by simply pointing at the ‘Dark Roast’ listing on the chalkboard that hung over the counter.

“I'll have that too then!”

Akira nodded, “and for you, Miss Robin.”

“Just Robin is fine,” the ash blonde smiled before looking at the chalkboard, “ummmm... How's the house blend?”

“Samus?” the barista called over his shoulder.

“Hmm?” she hummed, her voice back to neutral, as if it never changed.

“Thoughts on the house blend?”

The bounty hunter simply gave a quick thumbs up before going back to finishing her meal.

“I'll have that then,” Robin replied before turning to Lucina.

“Just water is fine.”

“Okay!” Akira smiled, “two white chocolate mochas, two dark roasts, a house blend, and a water. Anything for you, Sheik?”

She shook her head in the negative, leaving the barista a little disappointed but somewhat unsurprised. He wondered if it was because she truly didn't want anything or if she just didn't want to have to reveal her face.

Pushing that thought aside he began to walk back behind the counter before stopping and turning to the group again. “Curry?”

“Yes please!” those that ordered drinks said in unison save for Link who simply nodded.

* * *

 

The café had remained busy for the rest of the day. The group of fighters stayed well into dinner hours with some occasionally coming and going as they discussed strategy. Akira did his best to avoid listening in on potential tactics. Not only would it be unfair, but it would also make them suspicious if he knew their actions to a T. He did manage to catch a few comments from other fighters about how cocky the newcomer must be considering his exit banner, but it only made him happier to have chosen that end screen. They were going to get used to seeing it a lot as far as he was concerned.

Like the day before, he went to bed as soon as possible. He'd have far more fights the next day and his opponents weren't going to go down easy. Keeping his cards close to his chest would be his main goal, but he wouldn't be surprised if he was forced to pull out all the stops in a one stock match.

“So what do you think about him?” Akira asked as he was preparing to make matcha tea, an activity that was quickly becoming morning routine.

Sheik had taken the same seat she always chose in the mornings. This time she was working on some sort of origami project, her nimble fingers folding the paper with care.

“Who? The newcomer?”

“That's the one.”

She shrugged, “he makes good tea and if my friends are to be believed, good coffee as well.”

Akira chuckled, “I guess I walked into that one.”

“That you did.”

“Alright then. What do you think of the newcomer Lucina fought yesterday?”

She stopped working on her project for a moment as if looking for the right answer before returning back to it when she found one. “There isn’t much for me to judge. He’s a combatant that seems to like getting up close with his blade, but can cover distance with some sort of summon. He’s confident, and his performance shows that he has reason to be.” Her lips paused, her fingers still working. “But you heard all of this yesterday, didn’t you?”

He shrugged and he began sifting the matcha into a bowl of water, “just thought you might have come up with something new. What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Just something for a friend.”

“Oh?” he asked as he slid the bowl toward her before moving to put the things he used in the sink, “are they into that sort of thing?”

“Guess I should ask,” she replied. When he looked over his shoulder Akira saw her complete one last fold before setting it aside. “Hey, Akira?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like origami?”

He smiled, turning back to the handful of dirty dishes in the sink. Warm water flowed out of the faucet slowly enough for him to still be able to answer the question. “I think it’s a nice form of art, not something I’ve personally picked up though.”

“Then I hope you like this gift. I’d stay and chat, but you-know-who is no slouch after all.”

The barista bid the ninja farewell, and soon after he heard the sound of a small bell ringing as the door was shut. He wiped his hands on his apron after finishing the quick chore and headed back to the counter. All he could do was chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief when he saw what was waiting for him.

It seemed like the appropriate response for finding an elegantly folded paper version of his mask staring back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffier and no combat in this one, but there will be more. I was thinking about retroactively changing it so Robin isn’t Lucina’s mom in this story, but I kind of like it that way and decided to say screw it. 
> 
> Happy New Years to you all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in March, way before any tangible details of Smash Ultimate was released. It stayed in my drafts because of a huge lack of confidence even though I wanted to share it. Now that my other Persona 5 Crossover story has been received well I figured I might as well post it since I looked back at it with a much clearer mind. This was initially written with the intent to pair Akira with Sheik, and I'll probably still take it there. Not sure when I'll update this next since the other Akira pairing is my current priority, but I hope you guys enjoy this idea and the way I executed it.


End file.
